The young king was holding a white jade cup, and the amber wine seemed to be bottomless in the night.
The sound of killing coming from outside the hall became louder and louder, the crisp sounds of weapons were accompanied by the dull sound of footsteps, screams and cries, and the wind whistled by. All this was as blurry as a dream, and he couldn't see clearly. Under the pale moonlight, there were only beast-like figures, jumping up and down, bringing with them bursts of murderous aura.
The main door of the hall is open, welcoming visitors from all directions. He didn't have to hide, he couldn't hide, and he didn't want to hide. In hundreds of battles, he also had the experience of forcing the king to retreat, with blood splattering five steps away. He knew that at that moment of hiding, a person could be small, humble, pitiful, and hateful. And he, Jiang Huan, the Duke of Qi, dominated for a while, killing people like crazy, and all the princes from all over the world bowed their heads and pledged their loyalty to him; even if he died, he should make the world look at him with suspicion.
His death should also be part of this legend. His life should be as flawless as a jade.
The moonlight shines on the palace, cold and gentle. His white jade-like hand was gently held in his palm.
When he saw him, he nodded and smiled at him in the midst of thousands of troops, and his smile captivated the city.
The young king's face showed infinite pity and love. He slowly took off the sword tied to his waist and gently drew it.